


Studying Hard

by casstayinmyass



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Album: Meliora (Ghost), Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Exams, F/M, Meliora Era, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Riding, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Studying, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, light punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25150885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: The Cardinal pays a visit to you, and discovers you've procrastinated on an exam for the next day. The night just got a lot more fun.
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Reader, Cardinal Copia/Sister(s) of Sin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 53





	Studying Hard

**Author's Note:**

> Originally requested and posted on my tumblr!

You had to get this done. That was all there was to it.

Sitting here at your desk, you wish you had started this earlier. Memories of high school come flooding back from before you had joined the clergy, where teachers would urge you “Start studying a week in advance—that way, it will stick in your mind!” Well, that’s fucked now. 

You had thought becoming a Satanic nun would clear you of ever having to do anything like that again. Unfortunately, upon coming to stay at the Ministry, you had realized the Junior Siblings of Sin had to go through what could only be explained as a college, teaching you anything from demonic runes to ancient translation. You look down at your textbook, the colour coded pens you’ve got lined up, the post it notes, and the two notebooks you’ve spread out.

 _Come on. If you study now, you’ll get to go to sleep early._ You huff. _Good one._

A light knock sounds at the door of your bedroom, and you groan. You thought your roommate would be gone for the night at a party the Swiss Army Ghoul was holding in the Tepes Courtyards. She had probably gotten drunk too fast, and was now going to lay in bed and giggle for the rest of the night, ultimately dooming you to a big fat F on your midterms and a personal admonishment from Sister Morgana for bringing her entire class’s grade point average down. 

With a miserable sigh, you push your chair back to go get the door. “Forgot your key again, dumbass?” you ask, swinging it open. It’s not your roommate. It’s the Cardinal, holding a box of pastries. You glance down at yourself, blush spreading down your neck as you cover. You’re only dressed in a ratty old shirt with the church’s band logo emblazoned on it, and panties underneath. No habit to speak of, not even your headdress.

Although you had been seeing the Cardinal for secret liaisons for the past couple of months, it was still wildly inappropriate to appear to a higher up member of the clergy this way.

“Sister,” Copia nods, and you bow your head.

“Shit. I mean, damn. I mean—Cardinal, would you excuse me?”

“Of course,” he says, and you slam the door in his face. You cringe. You probably shouldn’t have done that either, but you’d never heard of a Sister losing her head for denying a higher clergyman hospitality (yet) and you need to get something on. Looking around, you see a pair of pants. Reaching over for them, you hear the door click open softly. “Sister,” you hear him say, “I do not wish to impose my preferences on you, but… pants would be somewhat counterproductive for this visit, I think. And I would much prefer you without them.”

You turn around, and cross your arms in exasperation. _So that’s what this was._

“Cardinal…” You usher him in, and close the door. The delicious scent of the baked goods he’d brought along fill the room, making your mouth water. “Look, Copia. I can’t do this tonight, you have no idea how swamped I am.” You probably shouldn’t be telling him this—he was your superior after all, even if he was fucking you, and you could very well get in trouble.

“Studying, eh?” he asks, shuffling over to your desk and setting the sweets down. “Cramming, I think.” 

“Guilty,” you say, deflating. 

“What do you think Papa would have to say about this?” Copia teases, “Hm? Have you done this before?”

“Please don’t tell him I’m falling behind,” you beg, thinking of Emeritus III receiving yet another unsatisfactory report with your name on it. “He already knows I’m struggling.”

“I would never,” Copia mutters honestly. “Papa is the kind of man anyway who would allow your grades to be dictated by your beauty.” You flush again, and a streak of hope runs through you. It’s a shitty thing to hope for, but…

“Does that mean…?”

Copia whips around. “No! In case you haven’t noticed, I am not Papa, and I have no tolerance for taking the easy way out. He may have grown up sliding by on his name alone, but I did not have that luxury, and neither do you. I do not want you to become lazy like that asshole.” He points a stern, gloved finger at you, and you have to say, it’s turning you on how authoritative his voice is. Then he returns to his regular old self, shrinking back and waving his hands. “Maybe don’t mention to him that I called him an asshole if the opportunity ever presents itself, yes Sister?” You smile a little, bowing your head. “Good. Now that that is clear. What are you studying?”

He begins to remove his berretta and gloves, and you hesitantly approach him where he’s standing by your desk. “Demonology.” You flip the textbook back a few pages. “I just finished reviewing the chapter on Transcendental Magic. Symbolism of pentagrams, different potency levels of pentacles, common sigils and all that.”

“I recall all of this,” he nods. “Then again, I moved more into specialized classes, more about translation, translating old texts and such. That was my forte. But, I know a thing or two about demons. I work with them.”

“So you’ll help me?” you grin, sitting down. He huffs.

“I did not say that.” Your face falls as you watch him remove his red cassock to reveal the same colour suit underneath.

“So, what? You just came in here tonight to give me a striptease and distract me from my studies?” 

“I came in here tonight to eat donuts and make love to you, but seeing as you’ve been a very bad girl and have not done your studying, that is an impossibility now.” He tsks. “And it is you, Sister, who is distracting yourself from your studies. Andare avanti allora.” He makes a little ‘turn around’ motion, and you groan, doing as he says. Most Siblings who don’t know the Cardinal think he’s a boring, quiet little man who does nothing but work his tired ass off and talk to his rats, but you know different. He’s a fucking tease, and you hate it.

 _Okay. Demonology._ You start to read down the page.

_Demons were considered to be angels who had been cast out of heaven for defying God. Each demon was associated with specific acts and sins and each was connected to a saint in heaven whose actions could override that of the demon._

_During the 16th and 17th centuries, demonologists developed a complex hierarchy of demons in order to enable exorcists to identify demons and call upon the correct saint—_

You share your head. “I can’t get through this. It’s like my mind won’t latch onto the words, I want to do anything but this.” Especially with you in the room, you don’t add. 

“I know how it feels,” he sighs. “Many a night I’ve spent hunched over books like this, my mind wandering off somewhere else. But you must soldier through, eh? I know you can do it. Kick it in the ass! Give it a good… ass whippin’!”

You stare at him in deadpan. “Are you talking about the exam, or me?”

“You know, if you do not study now, you are going to miss midnight mass,” he chides. “I have written Papa’s sermon he will give tonight. Yes, it is an _immeasurably_ useful topic, cara—different cooking salts that inspire erotic communion with the Dark Lord.” Copia shakes his head at the dumb shit Emeritus III makes him write for him.

“The rest of the Siblings will miss mass too, those attending Swiss’ party,” you mutter.

“So you want to go out and party, eh? Is that it?” Copia asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No. I just don’t want to study.” Copia scoffs, and a sock lands on your textbook in front of you, mercifully skewing the picture of the grotesque fly dude that is Beelzebub. You turn in surprise, and see that he really is stripping. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Is that any way to speak to your Cardinal?”

“It is when he’s tossing his socks around my dorm, what the fuck?”

He merely shrugs. “I am taking a shower.” You frown, bewildered.

“Why?” 

“That sounds an awful lot like a Sister questioning her superior. Or maybe I am just sensitive?”

You balk. “N… No, of course not. But your shower rooms are much bigger than mine. Why don’t you go to your own room, shower, then come back? I might be finished by then, and we can…” you flip your top up a little to flash him your tits playfully. He takes absolutely no notice, to your dismay.

“Doubtful. No. This will do, thank you. Have some donuts, they are very good, fresh from the kitchen, made just for me. They are sinfully good.” He nods curtly once, grabbing one then beginning to unzip his pants. Just as he’s struggling to peel the tight things off with an eclair in his mouth, he heads into the bathroom. You bite your lip, admitting defeat. You don’t know how you’re going to focus now when you know your lover, the attractive Cardinal is naked not twenty feet away from you. You bury your head back into your book.

_–to drive the demons out of the possessed. As demons were thought to be fallen angels, their system of hierarchy mimicked that used to categorize angels._

Fine. You choose a red fountain pen to scrawl out a practice guide in the heavy, leather bound notebook to your left.

 _Demons and Their Corresponding Saints,_ you write out. Your handwriting is very pretty tonight, if you do say so yourself. _Stop, no little distractions. Alright._

_Lucifer, prince of hell – John the Baptist_

_Beelzebub, reigned over witch’s sabbat and ruler of gluttony – St. Francis_

_Asmodeus, ruler of lust – John the Baptist_

_Behemoth, ruler of sloth –_

You check the index of your book for him. There’s nothing in this frustrating book that says what his corresponding saint is, but you know the virtue opposite of gluttony is temperance, so if you could only find the patron saint of that… You flip a few pages, cross check. _St. Florentina._ There we go.

You start to feel accomplished, like you’re actually making some headway here. You only have… 36 more pages to study. You can do this. Determination filling you, you pick up an apple fritter to shove in your mouth and plug on, scribbling in your notebook as you move on to the Mesopotamian interpretation of demons. Why do you need to know this? All that really matters is the Italian, after all, aka the Catholic. That and maybe Latin, though Emeritus III’s approved lesson plans don’t place as much emphasis on that as his eldest brother’s had. You’re fascinated by history outside of class, but wouldn’t it be more practical to learn ghoul lineage? Summoning circles?

You flip ahead. Oh, lovely. That’s waiting for you on page 29. Still, the wrath of Sister Morgana looms in your mind, and you press on.

_One class of demons that were believed to reside in the underworld were known as galla; their primary purpose appears to have been to take Satanically devout mortals on to Kur…_

You write out your congregation’s equivalents in the notebook.

_Kur = Hell/Underworld aka the unholy afterlife_

_Gallu = Demon factions in Hell, allies of our church_

You’re looking back down the page, scanning to find any more alternative Mesopotamian names for Hell, when you hear a moan come from your shower. You glance over your shoulder. Had you just imagined that, or was that Copia? Another moan comes out, and you hear the slide of a hand down the side of your shower, accompanied by another groan.

_He’s not. He wouldn’t._

“Fuck, (y/n),” you hear him whisper, and arousal shoots to your lower stomach. He’s jerking off in there. You let out a low whine, looking back down to your studies. You’ve barely even scratched the surface, but the noises from the other room begged your attention. Really? You had just forced yourself into this! Shifting to grind down in your seat a little, you imagine what he’s like in there right now. His brown hair would be matted against his forehead, black makeup running a little. He’d be shaking from the stimulation of it all. The small belly he has insulating his abdomen would be quivering with every stroke up his cock, which is getting harder and harder. You close your eyes, licking your lips as you picture the cock you love so much. It has that vein up the side, and his length is probably getting red as he pumps it more, jacking himself closer to shooting his seed all over your shower wall with that breathy, slutty little noise he gives when he cums.

“Oh,” you whisper to yourself, fingernails leaving indents in the wood of your desk. It would be so easy to just walk in there right now, get naked, join him in the shower and blow him, swallowing all that cum like you know you want to. You can almost taste it, feel his fingers tugging your wet hair as he guides you on and off his cock. But that’s what he wants. He wants you to break concentration, just so he can punish you for it. The man is a lot more devious than he gets credit for, maybe even more so than Papa. 

Turning back to your textbook with a pained expression, you try to alleviate the throbbing in your clit with a quick rub as you flip the page, ignoring Copia’s whispered obscenities. You open the second of your texts, an ancient translated copy of Grimorium Verum from the church library. Propping it open, you get your pen and scan the page concerning Sanctum Regnum and the invoking sigils for the higher demonic spirits.

The shower shuts off, and you listen in for a second. A heavy sigh, and his feet hit the floor. A towel is taken off the rack. You try to focus again, but after a couple of minutes of him fixing his makeup, the bathroom door opens in a cloud of steam. He walks by you, plucking another donut to eat, your towel casually wrapped around his lower half. Your gaze on him is intense– and directed much lower than his eyes. He notices.

“Ah. Am I making you uncomfortable, Sister? I can cover.“

"No, it’s…” you murmur, trying not to lick your lips at the sight of the obscene bulge in the towel. 

“I do apologize,” he chuckles, licking his sugary fingers, “The hot water, you know… it makes things, eh…” He makes a ‘larger’ motion with his hands. “I did not end up satisfying myself as I had hoped.” It gives a twitch under the attention, and you bite back a moan, turning back to the work you had to get done. “How are your studies coming along?”

“Fine,” you grit out.

“Good,” he murmurs, tone light-hearted. He’s right behind you now. “Why don’t you tell me what you have learned while I dry off, yes?” He takes a seat on your bed, and you turn to him, grabbing your notebook. “Ah—no book. I want to know what you’ve committed to memory. It must have been a lot, I was in there for a good fifteen minutes.”

You clench your jaw, and his mismatched eyes glitter with mirth. “Right. The saint counterparts to the most important demons…” you begin, getting lost staring at him. He’s still only got a towel on, and not only can you still see the outline of his neglected erection, but the light hair that covers his chest, the explosion of freckles all over his shoulders that you’re always so taken with worshiping in bed, the water droplets rolling down the column of his neck from his brown and silver sideburns.

“Sister?” Copia interrupts.

“Yes,” you hiss. “Um. Asmodeus. He’s… the guy who kept him in check was St. Francis.” 

“Not quite— John the Baptist.”

“Right. Him.”

“And do we like this?” Copia asks.

“No… no, because, um… Asmodeus is one of our patron demons here at the… church.”

“Go on. I would like you to name the patron demon of each of our seven sins.”

 _Fuck._ You try to think back to what you had written down. You had just written it out, after all, or something on that topic. But you can’t make your mind work. Not when you’re throbbing for him, no doubt wet as hell in your panties, not with that leering glare Copia is giving you from top of your bed like an invitation to get your ass whipped for being naughty. He seems to read your thoughts, and sighs through his nose, patting his thigh. “Come here.” 

“But—”

“Do not make me ask again.” The mirth in his eyes turns to threat.

You shiver, but get up, walking over to him. He pats his thigh again, and you sit down on his lap, wiggling to get comfortable.

“Look at how fucking wet you are…” he muses, looking down at the spot you’d already soaked his thigh with. “This is what you wanted then, eh?” he whispers in your ear. “It is of course what I wanted… but you had to go and put all this off, and now, you know nothing of your examination tomorrow morning due to your irresponsibility.”

“I wouldn’t say I know _nothing_ ,” you protest weakly. Copia gives you a look over your shoulder that kills your protest. He puts his hands on your arms.

“This is fine. We can fix this, no? I will help, I will help.” His tone is deceptively kind—you know he’s hiding some trick.

“Thank you,” you whisper reluctantly, lips getting dangerously close to his. He simply gestures to the book. You retrieve it, then sit back down in his lap.

“Now. I will say the sin. You will say the patron demon. Yes? You should know them—Emeritus II always led the congregation in a chant of them all back during his papacy.”

“Yes,” you betray yourself by nodding, “I remember them.” All you can focus on is the cock you’re grinding on beneath you, and it’s responding with every bounce of your ass against it.

“Sister,” he warns in your ear. His hand comes to stall your hips from grinding. “If you continue doing that, I will make a great mess of your towel. You must desist if you wish to save the ammunition for later.” 

You groan. “Yes, sir.”

“Very good. Lust.”

You take a deep breath, concentrating on your memories. “Asmodeus.”

“Gluttony.”

“Fly dude.”

“Who is ‘fly dude?’”

“Beelzebub.”

“I would like to see his reaction to his new nickname. Sloth.”

“Mmm… Behemoth?”

“Yes, very good. Envy?”

You pause. You hadn’t gotten that far. “Um. Leviathan?”

“Good.” You exhale. That had purely been a guess. “Lucifer and Satan.”

“Pride, and… greed.”

“Greed is the demon Mammon. That leaves Satan with what?”

You take a deep breath. You know this, but your pussy is distracting you by clenching. “Mmm…”

“You know this,” he whispers in your ear.

“I…” you breathe. “It’s…” Of course you know the seven deadly sins. They were displayed blatantly in nearly every room of the Ministry, they were drilled into you at every mass, and there was only one left you hadn’t touched on. But currently, all you cared about were the Cardinal’s firm hands on your hips. “Um…”

“Wrath,” he breathes in your ear. “I am disappointed you did not know this, cara.”

You can barely formulate an answer, you want him so bad. But, you still have the willpower to talk back, the irritation that had been building since he had arrived coming to a head. “Well, maybe I’d have paid more attention to my reading if I didn’t hear you jerking off in the shower!” Copia’s response is delayed—he chokes a little in surprise, before gaining the upper hand again.

“If you hadn’t procrastinated until tonight, you could have jerked me off in the shower. What that would have felt like, mm? How my cock would have felt in your hand…”

“Okay, I’ve learned my lesson,” you blurt, blushing a little. “Cardinal, sir.”

“So. What to do now, eh?” he muses, touching his chin. “We both know we can’t go to Papa about this. You cannot come up with any excuses that your battleaxe of a teacher will not see right through.”

“I can think of a few good ones,” you snort, looking over your shoulder at him.

“None that will get you very far.” He raises a stern eyebrow at you, and you’re put back in your place. He bumps his hips up. “It appears cara, the only viable thing to do now is to teach you a proper lesson, no? One you will remember.”

You have no choice but to agree with him. “Yes, Cardinal.”

“Sister, if you would be so kind as to go over to the desk, and remove your clothes. Everything, but the underwear.” You stare at him inquisitively, but don’t dare to disobey. You get up, walk over, and pull the shirt over your head, exposing your breasts to him. Then you clear the stuff off your desk in one fell swipe.

“Clean that up.”

“But–!” you protest, gawking at the papers. Sweeping things off desks were just things you did during moments of passion! “Papa would never—”

“ _Fuck_ Papa.” You gasp. “For the last time, I do not care what Papa would or would not do,” Copia growls. “You will pick those up or I will keep you on your knees all night, well into your exam tomorrow at dawn, so you may run in and tell the good Sister Morgana just why you are late. Because you were a little slut for my cock.” He rises from your bed, starting to take the towel off. “Explaining to a class full of Siblings and an unhappy teacher that you were held up servicing your Cardinal would be nothing short of humiliating.”

You stick your chin up. “In a church like this? I imagine _I’d_ become the new patron of lust.”

It’s Copia’s turn to blush, and his cock jerks at your words, but he quickly recovers. “I will not say it again.” He looks to the floor, and you decide it’s in your best interest not to argue any more. You busy yourself gathering up all your study material into a neat pile. You then set it on the floor beside the desk, and get up. “That’s it. Here we treat books with respect.”

“Emeritus II once used a book to roll a joint.”

“Yes,” Copia deadpanned, “It was the bible. That book I would say, is an exception.”

You look down, stifling a laugh. “Ah. Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Spread your legs.”

You’re hesitant to. Even though it had been two months, it still spooked you a little bit, dressing down so casually in front of your superior. You were in your chambers, and he was only in a towel at present. But still. You have no habit to hide behind now. 

Your mouth waters as he drops that towel, taking his cock in hand. It’s swollen, especially at the bulbous head, and he gives it a few strokes. Watching this definitely takes precedence over your academics. Then again, that kind of mindset is what had gotten you into this mess. It has the desired effect however—you spread your legs wide for him, leaning back on your forearms. Copia’s eyes fall to the soaked patch on your panties, and he moves closer. Surprising you, he drops to his knees, holding you by your thighs as he darts his tongue out to kitten lick around the patch. The man never misses an opportunity to eat pussy.

“Fuck,” you breathe, grabbing the desk to steady yourself. His tongue only gets faster, licking the wet fabric until it’s even more soaked through, and your pussy clenches around nothing, desperate for anything to fill it.

“You will be thinking of this during the exam tomorrow, yes?” he rasps, eyes blown wide with lust. “Your Cardinal’s tongue, bringing you to orgasm on top of all the books you studied from?” He sucks you hard through your panties. “Or didn’t study from, in this case. I am guessing it is all you will be thinking about, since you won’t be thinking of the pages in that book.”

“Mmf,” you moan, reaching forward to lace your fingers through his hair. He doesn’t care, he’s too far into his job, laving his tongue up and down and swirling around. Your hips begin to jerk. “Ca—Cardi—nal…” you gasp, breath hitching like a ladder with each flurry of his tongue. One hand of yours reaches up to grab one of your breasts, rubbing it in time with his motions. He moans, closing his eyes as he tastes your juices. Just as you’re teetering on the edge, he stops.

“What…?” you breathe, looking down at him. Copia gets up, wipes his mouth with a finger, then points at you.

“Examinations are stressful, yes?”

Your eyebrows knit together. “Yes…?”

“And you must perform under stressful, often distracting circumstances, yes?”

You know where he’s going with this. “Yes.”

“Tell me again what sin Satan is the patron of?”

“Copia—” you moan.

“You will call me Cardinal.”

Your chest heaves in arousal. “Cardinal, your dark Excellency, allow me to cum, please—”

“The answer?”

“I don’t know!”

Copia sighs. “It appears you really do not take your education here seriously. Get on your knees.” He pats his leg and points to the ground, like he’s calling for a dog. Satan help you, you obey. He looks down at you, watches your eager face as you await him. “Use your tongue on me, proprio adesso, and we will continue.” You take it in hand, wasting no time in taking it all the way down like you were starving for it.

Now, the Cardinal is good at intimidation to a point. His manhood was his weakness, and you currently held it in your hands quite literally, going to town sucking it, so his power stance was mildly affected for the time being. You use that to your advantage to turn the tables—he should have known by now that this was your specialty, and you’d take any opportunity to render him submissive.

“Eh…” he tries, lips parting a little more. “What have you learned about demonic history…?”

“I’ve learned that it’s irrelevant,” you smirk. He raises his eyebrows, and you pump his cock in your fist as you look up at him deviously. “What’s the matter, Cardinal? You wanted an answer? My answer is, I don’t have one. But there’s something a little more important at hand. You want to cum, don’t you?” You lick the head, holding him in your hand. “You didn’t get to cum in the shower, did you? I think all it’ll take is a good long swallow and you’ll blow your load down my throat, won’t you?” Copia tries to speak, but you reach back to squeeze his balls, rolling them around. They’re tight, and you know he’s on the verge of cumming. “You thought you’d come in here and punish me for not studying, sir? How could I study when you’re flaunting your nice, big cock all over my dorm, making me dripping wet for it, desperate to get fucked?”

“Sister—” he wheezes.

“The time for talking is over, sir.” Marveling at the power shift, you stand, pushing the man back onto your bed with strength you didn’t know you had. You straddle him before he has a second word, hold his cock upright, and sink down on it, taking him all the way in.

“Cara satana all'inferno,” he whispers, and you instantly start bouncing on him.

“We’re past teasing, aren’t we? We both want it. You said it yourself, you came here to fuck. But I was bad, wasn’t I? I didn’t do my homework. Tough shit, huh?” He groans as you ride him hard into the mattress, hands flying up to your hips. You gasp as you start to feel your orgasm build back up. “Cum inside me, my Cardinal. Cum in me so I can feel it all the way through my exam, to remind me of what I did.”

Copia’s hips thrust up into you, his favourite little pet of the congregation. Your orgasm burns through you as he bursts as well, fills you with rope after rope of hot cum. His head hits the mattress as he squeezes his eyes shut and moans, your own body shaking with the intensity.

Your ass, covered in your mutual spending, slides against his thighs as you get up off of him. Your knees buckle as soon as you stand, but Copia is thankfully there to catch you. He sits you back on the bed, patting your knee, and you rest your head on his shoulder. Seconds of heavy breathing tick by, and Copia snatches up the box of pastries, digging in again. 

“Oh,” you breathe, “I just remembered.” 

He munches on a chocolate glaze, using the discarded towel to clean both of you up. “Mmwhaf?”

“The sin that Satan represents is wrath.”

He starts to chuckle, and you join in. “You’ll do fine tomorrow, cara mia. Just fine. I failed demonology myself, you know. I had to relearn all of this in order to become Cardinal.”

“What were you doing instead of studying?” you ask, grinning.

“I am sure you can guess.” He waves a hand. “I read and read, books upon books every hour of the day and night of things that interested me. Demonology was not one of them. But, it doesn’t matter. You can only do better than I did.”

“You’re not mad about…?” you gesture around, and blush, trying to formulate a way of describing the last ten minutes. Copia shakes his head.

“If you tackle the midterm exam tomorrow with the same enthusiasm you just did to absolutely wreck me, I know you will take it and _wobble it right off its ass._ ” He shrugs. “And if I am not too taken with my duties, I may just stop by to see how the class is coming along." 


End file.
